Muddy

We’re nearing the end of this little tale, and then there will be half a year of hiatus while I work on the next volume. So in a bid to keep you all entertained, I’m going to do a couple of plugs.

First up, Milly – The Mirana Guild Girl. It’s a short little novel about a game NPC acquiring sentience. It deals with the whole NPC existence and the road to sentience in a rather clever way. Best of all, it’s a finished story, so you can binge it whenever you like without fear of cliffhangers. Do mind the tags before you start though, as it does not shy away from traumatizing content.

“That did not go the way I expected it,” Rafe admitted when we were back outside.

“Things like this rarely do.” I tilted my head up and looked at the sky.

We stood in silence for a couple of seconds, surveying the fields in front of us. Or at least Rafe did. I pretended I could see the fields. My nose told me where Eryn, Shae, and the Chestnut-woman were, but that was it. Onar was still inside.

“So, you really are a vampire then,” Rafe prompted.

I gave Rafe a hard stare. “Please do not refer to me by that word again. I abhor being lumped into the same category as those monsters.”

Rafe stared right back at me. “You gave me a bad hand there. Onar knew things about you that I didn’t?” He phrased it like a question, but I recognized it for what it was. An accusation. I should have done my job to prepare him for this, should have told him more about myself, and I had not.

“He did,” I acknowledged his statement that Onar knew things. “He knows more about vampires than most ever will, knows things he never wanted to know. What we got is the best you are going to get out of him. Nothing you or I say or do will change his mind.”

I had phrased it in a way that made it clear I did not want to dwell on his accusation. If these were things that Onar wished he did not know, then the same applied to everyone else. Rafe being upset because I had not warned him in advance was not a good enough reason to share this information now.

“I offered you the option to stay a little longer earlier,” he stated. “I’m retracting it. You’re not staying when you keep these kinds of dangerous things from me.”

I frowned at Rafe. I had explicitly told him these were things Onar wished he never knew, and still he asked me for them, still he pried. Unfortunately for him, he had nothing to convince me with.

“That’s easy then. I’m leaving,” I commented, before turning to go.

“Wait?” he called after me.

I looked over my shoulder, tilting my head at him.

“Please tell me?” he pleaded.

“You don’t want to know.” I scowled.

“Maybe I do,” he insisted

I glanced back towards the field, towards where I knew Eryn and Shae were. From this distance, they were barely a smudge against the background to my eyes. I smelled their worry though, their fear. They were probably watching us, watching this exchange, and wondering what had transpired inside.

I could not believe I was considering this. Telling him, no, showing him this would be stupid, idiotic, dangerous. It would be yet another item on the long list of stupid mistakes I had made in this town.

I was beginning to understand why I was doing these suicidal things as well. I wanted people that would understand, people that would share in my pain. I knew they never could. The best I could offer anyone was an outside perspective, a look at why they should fear and hate me.

“Not here. Onar’s barn,” I conceded. “And go tell Eryn to keep everyone away from there.”

I turned on my heels and stepped past Rafe, towards the barn. When Rafe did not move I waited at the edge of Onar’s house, observing his indecision. Wariness permeated his scent and his posture. “You have been alone with me before, Rafe. This is a little late to become wary of me.”

The man’s curiosity and kindness won out. While he trudged over to the other three people, I headed over to the barn to wait for him.

“Alright, what’s so secretive about this?” Rafe asked when he joined me there.

“I don’t like doing this. It’s terrifying. I’m not subjecting Shae or Eryn to this.” I fixed him with a heavy glare. “That is me politely informing you that it would be better if you changed your mind and walked away.”

“If it’s that big of an issue, then I’d say I definitely need to know,” he pointed out.

I kept up my stare, waited for him to change his mind. He did not. His posture and the determined slant to his mouth told me he would not, no matter how long I waited.

“Fine,” I sighed a final time, letting all the air escape from my lungs.

I did not breathe in again, stilling the motion of my lungs. I stopped blinking, halted the beating of my heart. And then I went further than anyone in this town had ever seen. Further than Shae who had seen me rest unbreathing and had thought I was dead. Further than Reya who had seen me magic my brains out. Further than Gery who had seen me suck an ahuizotl dry and then turn on him.

I dropped all pretense of being human, stripped every single layer of pretend-humanity I had spent over twenty years building up and refining. I relinquished control of every muscle in my face, and my expression deadened. I seized all the little muscle twitches and micro-movements that make even a person at rest look so alive.

Finally, I killed even the little twinkle of light and emotion in my eyes. Remorselessly I shelved these worthless emotions I had not dared let go of with the Academy doctor. They were every bad decision I had ever made, and it was so stupid I had not dared to get rid of them sooner. Perhaps it was best if they stayed gone.

Rafe stood alone in this barn now. Alone with a statue of me. A perfect, unblinking predator with eyes that spoke only of his death, a thing that only moved when it absolutely had to, and then only with perfect efficiency.

I was not human, had never been human. Just a creature of Metzus, inhabiting the corpse of a little baby girl, grooming it, growing it, puppeteering it like a marionette. That was what I really was. The foulest imitation of humanity the prey had ever seen.

The Firebird-male in front of me paled and paled further. He no longer reeked of fear. This was way past fear. Primal terror was all there was left in him.

I moved my puppet head ever so slightly, my perfect hollow eyes staring right into the prey’s soul.

The meat paled even more.

“This is what Onar sees when he looks at me,” I spoke through my puppet-mouth. There was no warmth in my voice, not even the slightest shift in tone, no inflection at all. I did not even grant the prey that lie. My words were as devoid of life as I was.

Onar was right. Taking this town would be so easy. They all thought me so, so human. They trusted me, trusted that pathetically innocent, emotional act I showed them. All it took was a little pretend-humanity, and then they even trusted a thing like me. They needed to see the mistake in that, because this is what their ridiculous human naivety invited into their home. Their faith in a predator like me, that was how Ostea had gotten this bad.

The prey stumbled back, tripped, and fell.

When I saw it go down I pulled myself back from the abyss. The sudden rush of sensations I had forcibly held at bay staggered me, pulled me to my knees.

I gasped for breath as Rafe’s terror washed over me. With my humanity packed away the man’s fear had been little more than an insignificant fact at the back of my mind. Now it was an actual human emotion, and its overpowering strength burned into me.

I had never done this with anyone. Not with anyone but my dad. Looking at Rafe now I knew how much I had underestimated the effect. I pounded the ground in frustration, sobbing tears that would not come no matter how hard I tried, hoping that I had not broken the man.

I only knew I had not when I felt his arms wrap around me. His hands gripped my shoulders and rubbed my arms.

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I mumbled in between sobs.

“Ik’s okay, girl. It’s okay,” he shushed.

“Why?” I wailed. Why are you still here? Why didn’t you run? Why are you holding me? Why would it be okay? There were far too many questions wrapped up in that single word.

“Because that terrified you every bit as much as it terrified me,” he whispered soothingly.

I took a second to pull myself together. Most people would have taken longer. I did not need that extra time to look like I was fine. Actually being fine could wait until later. “You’re supposed to run from the monster, not comfort it,” I told Rafe with a half-smile, patting his hand.

“Yeah… well… guess I’m not as sensible a person as I thought,” he offered. “That was definitely… um… educational?” He stared off in the distance. “I think I see now why the Inquisition would kill you on sight.”

“I should really get to work on that running for my life, shouldn’t I?” I sighed and leaned into him.

“Offer to stay still stands.” He ran his hands over my hair.

“Stands again,” I corrected him. “You retracted it earlier. Also, you’re crazy for even suggesting that with what you now know.”

“No, I’d be crazy not to offer. You need this,” he stated, as if offering me his support was the most natural thing in the world.

“It won’t be pretty if they find me here,” I tried one last time to change his mind. “Retract your offer.”

“To be honest, I doubt it matters what I do with my offer. You’ll do what you want either way.”

Muddy

I considered naming this chapter after the novel title, but eventually decided against it as it would lessen the impact.

Remember all those times that Vale mentioned not being human, not thinking like the humans? Remember all those times Vale denied being a vampire, all those times Vale carefully avoided that word when referring to herself?

Vale is very much aware that underneath her carefully cultivated layer of pretend humanity and learned approximations of emotions, she is still every bit a monster. And she is afraid, she is oh so very afraid of what will happen should her human mask slip too hard.

Vale… is a vampire? It’s a question to which the answer can’t be expressed in easy black-or-white statements. So I’ll simply let the words speak for themselves, and let you all make up your own mind.